


Shotgun

by sohox



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Anal Fingering, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Rimming, Sex while intoxicated, Snowballing, college rhink, if that bothers you please dont read this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-12 18:55:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21481207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sohox/pseuds/sohox
Summary: Link stares at the glass suspiciously, shaking his head again. “No, you know I hate using that thing. The smoke makes the mouthpiece too hot and it always hurts my lip.” Rhett rolls his eyes, it’s a flimsy excuse, one that barely even makes sense. The glass never got that hot, but if Link needed to tell himself that, then Rhett would indulge him.
Relationships: Rhett McLaughlin/Link Neal
Comments: 10
Kudos: 78





	Shotgun

**Author's Note:**

  * For [imincognitohere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/imincognitohere/gifts).

> For Michelle, because I'm proud of you and you deserve something nice. I thought this might be better than flowers and a card. 
> 
> I hope you like it, because there is no return receipt. ;)
> 
> Thank you Appa, for being my beta-angel. I don't know why i ever post anything without having you look at it first. I adore you.

“She di’nt even give me a reason, man. She just gave me back my sweater and told me not to call her again.” Link looks miserable, his expressive eyebrows knit together, eyes pleading at Rhett. He looks much younger than 22, he looks like a kid again, vulnerable and sullen. Link always did this to himself, getting fixated on a girl to the point of obsession, then being completely devastated when things fell apart. Rhett thought it was funny, _ ironic _ even _ , _ considering _ he _was the one who was so girl obsessed when they were kids. 

“I know, bud, but maybe she just wasn’t the right _ person _for you?” Rhett takes a rip off the bong he borrowed from Gregg, holding the smoke trapped in his lungs for a beat before blowing it out in a rush. “Here, hit this; you’ll feel better after.”

Link stares at the glass suspiciously, shaking his head again. “No, you know I hate using that thing. The smoke makes the mouthpiece too hot and it always hurts my lip.” Rhett rolls his eyes, it’s a flimsy excuse, one that barely even makes sense. The glass never got that hot, but if Link needed to tell himself that, then Rhett would indulge him. 

“You damn baby,” Rhett’s sure his face looks incredulous, He knows exactly what Link needs, but he also knows his friend is too afraid to ask. “C’mere.” He pulls in another deep breath of smoke, holding it in his mouth, not quite letting it slip past his throat. 

Shyly, Link moves over to him, lips parted and ready. His hands move up to rest on Rhett’s shoulders when he leans forward. Rhett grabs his chin, holding him steady, hovering their mouths together, blowing at the same time that Link sucks in his breath. He does his best to keep their mouths just close enough to let the smoke flow, but not so close as to create any sort of contact. Link, predictably, doesn’t help at all. His fingers flex on Rhett’s shoulders, nails biting through the cloth as he wobbles on his knees, trying to stay upright. He sways a little, back and forth while he tries to maintain the inward airflow, his lower lip finding a way to drag along Rhett’s. 

Rhett’s already feeling it, the loose happy glow that comes along with imbibing. He feels relaxed, boneless. He hopes it hits Link soon, too. Link’s always so worked up, fidgety, can never just let loose. It was why he’s struggling so hard with the girls at their school. He gets so wound up, trying to make the relationship perfect and _ meaningful, _ rather than just having _ fun _ . None of the girls around campus want to have an _ Epic College Romance _, and so they keep breaking Link’s heart when things get too intense. And each time they do, he comes to Rhett, spills his heart out, and Rhett helps him take the edge off. 

Link held the smoke in his lungs until his eyes watered, until he coughed it up, sputtering and reaching for his water bottle. 

“You alright, man?” Rhett asks, an eyebrow shooting up while he watches Link try to steady his breathing. 

Link just nods, jutting his chin at Rhett, “Yeah, gimme some more,” he demands, already getting back up on his knees. They go through the routine a few more times, each time Link gets a little more wobbly, a little less precise with where he lets his mouth fall. By the third hit, Link’s not even trying to be subtle any more. He’s crawling into Rhett’s lap and instead of inhaling the smoke, he’s licking his way into Rhett’s mouth, sucking his lower lip in between his teeth as he clings to Rhett’s shoulders. 

Rhett places the bong on the bedside table, all pretense abandoned now that Link’s in it with him. He puts his hands on Link’s hips, thumbs working their way up under his shirt to get at the soft skin of his belly. 

“Tell me what you need, Link.” Rhett huffs the words against Link’s mouth, fingers squeezing the flesh of the smaller man’s hips. He feels so small on Rhett’s lap. He needs to hear the words first. He knows neither of them are so far gone that they can’t make rational decisions, but he still wants to hear Link say it. That’s his favorite part of the game, when Link finally gives in and lets himself have it. 

Link whimpers into another hot kiss, one hand finding its way to the base of Rhett’s skull, fingertips trailing over the buzzed hair there. “Rhett, I need..._ please. _I really need it.”

“Need what, buddyroll. You gotta say it first.” He teases Link, pulling his mouth away so he can look up into his blue eyes. 

“Want your mouth on me, please. Just really need you to make me feel good.” Rhett lifts his head to crush his lips against Link’s, pushing him off his lap and onto the lower bunk bed. He helps him pull off his baggy jeans, leaving his red t-shirt on. 

“Get up on your knees, face down. I want to look at you for a minute.” Rhett’s voice is gruff even to his own ears. He watches as Link complies, wrapping his arms around Rhett’s pillow, face pressed into it, but still angled so he can watch. His ass is angled upward, on full display for Rhett, his balls and cock hanging between his legs in a way that is so utterly obscene, it makes Rhett’s mouth water. 

He reaches a hand out, grabbing a fist full of Link’s rounded ass cheek, squeezing hard enough to make Link gasp, bucking his hips back toward Rhett. Rhett chuckles, letting his thumb glide from the apex of Link’s crease, down along the fold, over his puckered hole, all the way down to press against his taint. Link whimpers, a delicious little moan escaping, muffled by Rhett’s pillow. He loves when Link gave in, loves being able to touch him, to drag those noises out, cataloging them for the next time he’s alone with his hand around his cock. 

He presses the pad of his thumb up into Link’s flesh, feeling Links muscles flutter. He leans in, spitting directly onto Link’s waiting hole, tongue quick to chase it down from where it threatens to drip off of him entirely. This time Link lets out a full throated moan, knees shaking as Rhett swipes his tongue back and forth over the tight ring of muscle. He loves how Link becomes stupid with it, shifting his legs so that his cheeks spread even further apart. Rhett’s mouth is fucking his tight entrance with earnest now, tongue dragging in and out slowly, his hand reaching up to tug at Link’s tight balls. He rolls them in his hands and Link fucks his hips backward, trying for more, more tongue, more pressure, anything he can get. 

Rhett pauses just long enough to bark out a command, hand fisting his cock inside of his sweatpants, he’s already close just from the taste of Link on his tongue. “Get your hand on your cock, baby.” 

Link doesn’t lift his head from the pillow, just shoves his hand under his body, reaching down to grab hold of his throbbing shaft, “s’too dry.” He complains. He doesn’t stop stroking, but he’s staring up at Rhett expectantly. 

“Need some wet?” Rhett asks, pulling his cock out, stroking harder, hand a blur, and he sinks his thumb into Link’s tight, pink hole. 

“Ahh!” Link pushes back onto Rhett’s finger, a high pitched keening sound ripping from his throat. _ “Please, _ Rhett, _ yes!” _

Rhett shudders at the feel of Link’s tight ass flutter around his thumb as he presses it in deep, brushing hard and steady over his prostate. Rhett’s cock twitches and he lines up the head of it to aim at Link’s taint. “Put your hand up here” He commands, and Link drops his cock instantly, stretching to cup his hand right behind his balls. 

Thick ropes of white cum splash over Link’s taint, splattering onto his waiting palm and before Rhett has a chance to catch his breath, Link’s wrapping his soaked hand around his own shaft, jerking himself hard and fast, mouth open and panting. 

Rhett’s torn between watching Link’s face, and getting his mouth back on the crease of his ass. He leans in, sucking at the hot stripe of skin right above Link’s sac, tasting the mix of Link’s musk with his own salty release. He’s drunk on the flavor, on the feeling of Link fucking himself back and forth between their hands. One day he’ll convince Link to let his cock be the thing that gets him off, but for now, he’s content to have him anyway the small man will allow. 

Link’s babbling, begging for more fingers, for Rhett’s mouth again, anything to push him over the edge. Rhett replaces his thumb with two long fingers, using his own cum as lube to get Link open. He scissors his fingers open enough to shove his tongue inside, too. With a strangled shout, Link busts all over Rhett’s sheets, his whole body collapsing onto the bed in a quivering mess. 

Rhett knows it’s only a matter of time before Link puts his mask back on, pretending that this didn’t happen, spending the next few days not looking Rhett in the eye. But for now, he’s pulling Rhett down onto the bed next to him, neither of them minding the mess they’ve made. He’s licking the salt from Rhett’s lips, sticky hands roaming over Rhett’s chest until their breathing evens out, both too exhausted to say anything more. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for Liking, Commenting and Subscribing! You know what time it is!
> 
> Find me on tumblr @ soho-x.tumblr.com


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